


Your immortal smile is burned in me

by retts



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Liam likes taking walks, M/M, Mutual Pining, One True Pairing, So many Ziam feelings, squint for Louis/Harry/Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retts/pseuds/retts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In London, Liam realised he was in love with Zayn. He needed his lads this time; not anonymity but people who knew him and Zayn and how they were. He nearly broke down the door to Louis and Harry’s flat. Louis took one look at Liam’s wide, wide eyes before he ordered Harry to make tea and Niall to get the extra duvet out from the cupboard (‘and get dressed, for God’s sake!’).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your immortal smile is burned in me

**Author's Note:**

> So many Ziam feelings from Tumblr, especially their bedroom scene in OWOA and Liam wearing what looked like Zayn’s clothes in their performance at the Brits *squeal*. And I’ve been going back through the fics here and holy fuck why are they so fucking depressing? Like. Ugh. Ziam is happy and rainbows and stupid boys in love to me. So FLUFF. (and a tiny bit of angst). 
> 
> Timeline is all over the place here for artistic purposes ~~a convenient excuse~~ because I have no idea about the actual band so just go with it. All I write is made up. So if you go 'hey that's not right' then yeah, made up. 
> 
> And Liam’s hair is growing back dshfskdjfhsdjkfhsdjkhfjkds I’m not sure if I’m emotionally ready for this, you guys. What if he cuts it all off again? *stabs self* I mean, yeah, when I started writing in this fandom the hair was already gone but I didn’t know that at the time because in the pictures I saw he had the most glorious hair so I kept imagining that as I read, and then suddenly I took a trip to Tumblr and the hair was gone! *stab stab stab* I just really like him with hair, okay?
> 
> Title taken from 'Waiting for My Chance to Come' by Noah and the Whale.

 

_When you’re walking next to me_

_I can hear my body speak_

 

 

-

 

The first time was in America, where the girls shouted and cried too much, and the weather was too hot, and everything was so different. Liam had thought he’d love it here but he didn’t; he missed England and tea and the quiet house in the West Midlands he grew up in. Liam needed to leave because he was suffocating from the lights, from the questions, from the constant press of strangers, from _smileLiam!lookoverhereLiam!whatkindofgirlsdoyoulikeLiam?_ ; and from the other lads too.

That night when he had the single and the rest of the band was out somewhere soaking in the newfound fame, Liam donned his biggest sweatshirt, a beanie to muffle his hair, and one of Zayn’s large fake glasses. It was a weak disguise at best but Liam didn’t care. He needed to escape even for just a short while.

He didn’t tell anyone, not Zayn, Louis, or Paul. He didn’t want them to know and stop him, not just then. This was purely for himself, for Liam, who was starting to forget who Liam really was.

So Liam left, as quietly and stealthily as he could. He knew the paps were tracking the other lads to whichever club they had gone to and he didn’t have any problem crossing the lobby and out the hotel. It helped that he was ambling behind a large group of Asian tourists. The night was warm and crisp and Liam took a moment to breathe. In that deep inhale, Liam let the awe and gratitude for the fact that he was here (in the States, in this world, in this life) with his lads flood back in him; then he exhaled and he was just Liam again and he started walking.

 

 

 

 

 

Liam looked up from his phone with a worried frown when his door opened. He expected it to be Louis or Harry, but he sat up straight when he saw Zayn stood there. He looked wrecked: eyes shadowed, face pale, hands twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

He hadn’t seen Zayn in weeks and he looked just as miserable as the day he’d left for home. Liam dropped his mobile and jumped off the bed. He pulled Zayn inside, kicked the door shut, and held on. ‘You’re back,’ he breathed in selfish relief. It had been like losing a limb when Zayn had gone.

‘Yeah,’ mumbled Zayn into the crook of Liam’s neck. His fists pressed tight in the spaces under Liam’s shoulder blades. ‘Just got here. Dropped my stuff in my room and looked for you. I was – I missed – _Liam_.’

‘Zayn, you’ll be alright,’ said Liam, hugging the other boy even closer. It was the same thing he’d told Zayn when Zayn had first got the phone call about his grandfather because it was true. Liam would make sure of it.

 

 

 

 

 

The first (and only) time someone caught him was in Japan.

Liam had got better in dealing with the wild whirlwind his life’s become but the culture shock was both beautiful and unnerving. Everything was fast, fast, faster than he could calm his thundering heart. The food was delicious (and weird) and the lights were pretty (but blinding) and the fans were just as mental with that unique Japanese flavour, but it was the language that made Liam bite the inside of his cheek and chew on his thumbnail. He hadn’t understood French in France, German in Germany, Spanish in Spain, even English in Great Britain sometimes, but for some reason the rapid-fire up-and-down cadence of Japanese made him want to vanish.

It made him realise how very, very far he was from home. (Home these days was the band, but there were times when they weren’t enough.)

It was the easiest place to escape from, Liam wearing the black wig he’d bought yesterday at that cosplay place, a plain shirt over his long-sleeved one, and Zayn’s large fake glasses. For some reason, the glasses had become part of the costume, not that Liam tried very hard with his disguises. He wore something comfortable and plain, usually the old clothes he wasn’t allowed to wear in public anymore unless the stylists had given it a tweak or two. It was the secret to his success so far: to pretend to be normal even for a few minutes meant Liam wore regular clothes, moved calmly through the crowd, and didn’t panic every time someone so much as glanced at him.

(Maybe it had something to do with Liam not being charismatic like Harry, or magnetic like Louis, or bright like Niall, or beautiful like Zayn.)

So Liam left, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched and head tilted like he was bored, and was nearly out of the hotel when someone asked, ‘Liam, that you?’ in a sceptical voice.

Liam froze and he looked back at Louis, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Louis had a box of Pocky in one hand, the other halfway to his mouth grasping a chocolate-dipped biscuit. ‘What the hell are you wearing?’

Liam grabbed Louis and dragged him to the toilets, hoping Paul or anyone else wasn’t nearby. He thought they’d all gone to bed already.

Louis shook off Liam’s grip, his mouth trying to smile and frown at the same time. ‘Li, you look ridiculous. Is this a dare gone wrong?’

‘Um.’ Liam glanced at himself in the wide mirrors. Black synthetic hair fell around his face in waves. ‘No, not really.’

‘Wait, where were you going anyway?’ asked Louis.

Liam cursed in his head. Should he tell Louis? Blue eyes stared at him, practically demanding an answer. Liam sighed. ‘Out,’ he answered.

‘Out,’ repeated Louis, realisation colouring his voice. He stuffed his Pocky stick back in the box. ‘By yourself. In a foreign country with no English signs. Liam!’

Liam held up both hands. ‘Listen, Lou, don’t freak out, okay? It’s no big deal. I just want to have a bit of a think and I can’t do it here. I’ve done it before, loads of times, and no one’s the wiser. I’m careful, yeah? You know me.’

The thin press of Louis’ lips was not a good sign. ‘Not freak out?’ Louis asked a little shrilly, taking a step towards Liam. ‘How the fuck am I supposed to remain calm when you’ve just admitted to _sneaking off_ in the past? Christ, Liam, do you know how dangerous that is?’

‘It’s not like we’re spies with enemies after us, Lou,’ Liam tried to joke, but Louis narrowed his eyes and pinched his cheek. ‘Ow! Oi!’

‘Don’t make fun of this, Li. You know why we have bodyguards, why we’re never alone for a single bloody second. What if you get spotted? What if you get lost? What if you get mugged because some random thief thinks you’re another lost puppy he can take advantage of?’

Liam rolled his eyes and placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder. ‘Louis, that’s not going to happen.’

‘You’re right, because I won’t let you leave, Liam. I’ll tell Paul.’ Louis raised his chin. ‘I’ll tell _Harry_.’

‘Louis!’ Liam shook his head and pulled away. ‘Please, Louis, I know that I’m taking a massive risk, yeah? It’s just – ’ He bit his lip, staring at the floor. His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I hate it sometimes, you know? The constant travelling, attention, questions, people _everywhere_ , and I can’t breathe. Like. I’m drowning. And I know I chose this, wanted it, and I do love everything we do, it’s brilliant, but. But. I also want to be me for a while. Forget. Pretend like I’m missing home because I’m a foreign exchange student and not on tour in this amazing band or something. It’s daft but I just want to be invisible for a little bit.’

There was a tense silence before Louis’ exasperated sigh filled it. ‘Damn it, Li, stop looking like that. You know I can’t handle it.’ Warm arms went round Liam. ‘I didn’t know you felt this way,’ Louis murmured into his ear.

Liam hugged him back. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but it’s, it’s just something for me. Do you get it?’ _Because I’m the strong one, I’m the “Daddy”, I have to hold you four together, and sometimes I need to be really, really selfish._

‘Of course I do,’ Louis told him, like he heard what Liam wasn’t saying. He kissed Liam’s neck and pulled away. Then Louis scowled and pointed at Liam. ‘Ah fuck, fine, but you text me every hour you’re out there, alright? So I know not to panic that maybe you’ve been manoeuvred into an arranged marriage because you don’t understand the language and just keeping saying yes to it, because you are a yes-man, Liam Payne.’

Laughing, Liam stole the box of Pocky from Louis. ‘Thanks, Louis, now I’m scared of saying yes ever again.’ He hesitated. ‘You won’t tell Harry and the other lads?’ The Harry bit was important; Louis told the other boy everything.

Louis pursed his lips in resigned annoyance. ‘I ought to, but I won’t. This is your thing, Liam, as much as I hate the idea of you out there on your own. But you _have_ to promise me you’ll ring the moment you think you’ve been recognised, alright? Your mum will never forgive me if something happens to her little baby. Not to mention what _Zayn_ will do to me if he finds out I let you go.’ Louis and Liam blanched at the thought.

‘I will be as careful as a turtle in the wild,’ swore Liam, one hand over his relieved and full of _LouisLouisLouis_ heart.

‘Weirdo. Come give me one last hug – and that is my snack, you git!’

(Later, when he was back, Louis crawled into his bed and made Liam tell him all about the times he’d gone out, eyes widening with each city Liam listed. Louis smacked him on the forehead and then tackled him to the mattress. ‘I wish you didn’t have to escape and just talked to us, but everyone copes differently, I guess,’ Louis said into his shoulder. ‘And honestly, I’m quite impressed because, let’s be honest, this is you we’re talking about and the most dangerous thing you’ve probably done before this was eating the spicy nosh at Nandos.’

‘I resent that!’

‘True, though.’

‘You know I surf, right? And box? And I’d like to jump off a cliff someday. Maaaaybe even without a harness.’

‘Those are different and you know it. And I’ll _push_ you off that cliff, Liam, if you want.’)

 

 

 

 

 

‘We’re heading out,’ said Niall, grabbing his wallet from the table. He looked expectantly at Liam and Zayn.

Zayn shrugged and went back to his book. Liam was acting as his pillow and he ran his fingers through Zayn’s uncombed hair and smiled at Niall. ‘We’re fine here, mate. You lot have fun.’

Niall said, ‘Don’t wait up, parents,’ with a laugh and left the room.

Zayn kept reading, sometimes out loud to share with Liam a phrase he particularly liked, and Liam kept playing with Zayn’s hair because he was the only one allowed to and it was lovely. This was another form of coping too.

 

 

 

 

 

In Amsterdam, Liam had a mini-breakdown when an article came out about him being forgettable and after the lads buried him in a hug for hours, he got dressed and left. (He came back, though, much to Louis’ relief two hours later, waiting in Liam’s room.)

In Utah, Liam was so fed up by the _What qualities do you like in a girl?_ and _Is there a special girl in your life now?_ and _We saw you with her and her and what we’d like to know is are you dating?_ that he got lost in his head, lost in the city, and ended up having a nightcap with a lovely Mormon couple who had no clue who he was because they didn’t follow pop culture. They gave him an actual map to help him find his way back and Liam made sure to tuck it safely in his suitcase.

And in Wolverhampton ( _home_ ), Liam didn’t think he’d ever feel the need to escape but he did, missing his boys so badly that Liam tugged on a hoodie over his head and went to a low-key music shop and listened to their album on repeat by the CD players on the wall; headphones over his ears, glasses on (he’d stolen them from Zayn) and staring at a poster of them, five happy boys beaming at their lot in life.

 

 

 

 

 

‘Oh my god,’ said Zayn weakly. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. ‘Liam, what the fuck did you do?' 

Liam hadn’t told anyone he was cutting _all_ of his hair because they would only try and stop him. Hair was such a big thing in and around the world of One Direction that they generated their own headlines.

Liam gave a self-conscious smile. ‘Do you like it? I do.’

Zayn wasn’t blinking. He wasn’t letting Liam into his flat either and he was literally gaping.

‘Er, Zayn?’ Liam called, nervously running a hand over his buzzed head. His palms tickled and he wasn’t used to the feeling quite yet. He kept pushing his fringe away before remembering he didn’t have hair anymore. Zayn’s reaction made his cheeks warm. ‘Is this, like, a total disaster?’

‘Your nose and ears are huge,’ said Zayn, still sounding a bit strangled. ‘Fuck, Liam, I dunno, I like it because I can see your face but it’s still a shock, okay?’

Liam chuckled, relieved, and shoved at Zayn’s shoulder so he could step inside. ‘Thanks for inviting me in, by the way. And it shouldn’t be a shock, really; I was subtly preparing you for this moment. I could have, like, shaved it all off in one go but then I thought _what if Zayn has a heart attack_? so I trimmed it down inch by inch.’

Zayn followed Liam to the lounge like a lost puppy. Liam sat down heavily on the sofa, legs spread out in front of him, and tilted his head back. Zayn stood behind him and rubbed Liam’s head. A thumb traced circles on his cheekbone at the same time. It felt nice. Then Zayn made a feeble grasping motion on his scalp and Liam’s lips curled in amusement.

‘I will need a moment to mourn,’ said Zayn sorrowfully, ‘but the prickling feels weirdly good.’

Liam laughed and stared at Zayn’s upturned face. ‘Take your time.’

 

 

 

 

 

In London, Liam realised he was in love with Zayn. He needed his lads this time; not anonymity but people who _knew_ him and Zayn and how they were. He nearly broke down the door to Louis and Harry’s flat. Louis took one look at Liam’s wide, wide eyes before he ordered Harry to make tea and Niall to get the extra duvet out from the cupboard (‘and get dressed, for God’s sake!’). The four of them cuddled on the sofa whilst watching Toy Story 3 and after the crying bits, Liam whispered, ‘I think I’m in love with Zayn,’ with a great sniff.

Harry kissed his forehead. ‘There’s no “I think” about it, Li. This is the real deal.’

‘Yup,’ added Niall. ‘You’re completely gone for DJ Malik. Like: completely pissed, arse over tit gone, full stop.’

Liam hiccupped out a laugh and a sob.

‘Way to be comforting, guys,’ Louis scowled.

‘Harry started it!’

‘I did not!’

‘You did!’

‘Fuck off, Leprechaun.’

‘No, you fuck off, Curly.’

Louis reached over Liam to thwack Harry, who was nearest. ‘Lads! Liam in a panic here.’

‘Oh right. Sorry, Li.’ Harry hugged him tightly.

Liam shook his head and placed it on top of Harry’s, ignoring the curls sticking in his ear. ‘What am I going to do?’

‘You’re kidding, right?’ asked Niall, peering over Harry’s head to look Liam straight in the eyes. ‘Because not even _you_ can be this thick – oh shit, you are!’

This time Louis was all serious warning as he growled, ‘Niall, shut up.’

Frowning, Liam asked, ‘What are you talking about?’

Niall looked torn. ‘Well, Liam. Liam. Liam.’

‘What?’

 

 

 

 

 

Liam refused to believe Niall until after their performance at the 2013 Brit Awards. His heart was thumping like it usually did after being on stage and he grabbed a water bottle from the table and drank half of it, head tipped back, Adam’s apple bobbing. A pair of arms went round his waist and Liam would have jumped if he didn’t recognise the familiar scent of Zayn’s cologne. A chin dug into his shoulder.

‘Want some?’ Liam asked breathlessly and pushed the bottle towards Zayn. The other boy took it and finished the remaining liquid inside. Out of the corner of his eye, Liam could see Zayn’s lips wrapped around the rim of the bottle.

‘Thanks,’ said Zayn. ‘Fun night, yeah?’

‘Brilliant,’ said Liam. He could feel every breath Zayn took. He gently knocked back against the other boy. ‘After party’s going to be better, though.’

Zayn’s fond smile was slightly blurred in the periphery of Liam’s gaze. ‘You look nice in my clothes.’ His fingers toyed with the red shirt peeking from under the jacket. ‘They’re going to smell like you. Lend me the jacket for later, yeah?’

‘Sure, it’s yours anyway,’ murmured Liam, cheeks going slightly pink. He leant his head against the side of Zayn’s.

The door to their dressing room opened and Niall came in, texting on his mobile. He barely blinked at them, heading straight for the sofa. Zayn squeezed Liam’s hips and pulled away to bin the empty bottle.

When Liam turned to Niall, the blond was staring at him with raised eyebrows and making a discreet gesture towards Zayn.

‘Maybe,’ he conceded softly and slumped down next to Niall who shook his head affectionately.

(It was loud and hot in the club, and Liam was only slightly tipsy when he let Zayn drag him to the dance floor. They didn’t usually do this but no one was paying attention to them when Louis and Harry were at the bar being noisy, obnoxious, and stupidly charming. The song was more of a repetitive beat that matched the pace of Liam’s heart as he cupped Zayn’s hips. Zayn held a fistful of Liam’s red shirt and shouted, ‘Mine,’ as he bopped along to the music, grinning beautifully. Liam didn’t ask him if he meant the shirt or Liam because both were true anyway.)

 

 

 

 

 

The world tour was more mental than the first, if that was possible. More cities, more fans, more adoration for five lads who only wanted to make good music that at least one person would like. Now they had millions of fans and Liam still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea. He was more prepared this time, though; no more freak outs about the publicity, the tears, the exhausting hop from country to country, the sea of bodies cheering expectantly for them. He’d snuck out just the one time in the past ten weeks and Liam was quite pleased with himself.

They had a rare night off and Louis and Harry were locked in their room, doing God knew what, and Niall was in the single and had been talking to his family for the past hour.

Zayn was trying to write a song and Liam was playing on Niall’s PSP but his eyes kept wandering to the long line of Zayn on the bed: lying on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, and nibbling on the tip of his biro. His black hair was puffed up around his head; the sight of it made Liam’s heart twist with fondness.

The number of times Liam had to leave because of Zayn was a grand total of four.

It was getting ridiculous and reckless and Liam kept receiving knowing looks from the other boys. Zayn was oblivious because Liam wasn’t acting any different; no distance, no avoidance, no awkwardness (well, there were instances when Liam would realise just how close they stood or sat together, how in sync Zayn was to his movements and vice versa, and he’d get flustered; luckily Liam always managed to calm himself down before he did anything stupid).

Liam bit his lip and went back to his game. _Don’t think about it_ , he told himself. It was the mantra he’d picked up in the last few months and for the most part it worked. He was so intent on focusing on something other than Zayn that he nearly leapt off the sofa when Zayn cuddled into his side.

Zayn lifted an eyebrow at him. ‘Game that good?’

‘You startled me,’ said Liam. He turned the PSP off without saving and smiled at the other boy. ‘Any progress?’

‘Nope,’ said Zayn, smacking his lips on the “p” and shrugging. ‘I’m kind of bored, Liam. Entertain me.’

‘I’m not your personal clown,’ snorted Liam. He tugged on a strand of black hair. ‘Ever think of getting a buzz cut, Zayn?’

Zayn gave a shudder. ‘And lose my charm? No, thank you.’

‘Charm’s in your pretty face, you vain git.’

‘Liam Payne thinks I’m pretty. All my efforts have paid off,’ Zayn said as he fell on Liam’s lap, cheeky grin on his face. He reached for Liam’s hand and brought it up to his hair. Liam obediently ran his fingers through the fluffy locks and Zayn closed his eyes with a small, contented sigh.

Liam let himself stare this time. The feeling of Zayn was one of the first things Liam had grown used to back then, when they’d still been sniffing around each other warily. His other hand traced a thumb across Zayn’s cheek, down the line of his nose, and hovered over his top lip.

Zayn’s eyes opened and he gazed up at Liam patiently.

So maybe Zayn wasn’t quite as oblivious as Liam thought.

His heartbeat picked up and Liam wanted to bend down and kiss him more than anything. It sort of scared him because he’d never felt this strongly for anyone before, not even Danielle, and what they had had fizzled out completely in the cold air of New York last year. Liam had never met anyone who affected him more than Zayn Malik, whether in friendship or in love. It made him cautious and hesitant because what would happen to him if he let himself take that final step?

‘Liam,’ said Zayn, voice softly beseeching.

With a small shake of his head, Liam went back to stroking Zayn’s hair.

 

 

 

 

 

There was a certain kind of breathlessness that Liam associated with being in love. It wasn’t the painful, desperate wheezing after a particularly gruelling run or the soul-weary huffs after ten straight hours of rehearsals. It was looking up and finding Zayn grinning at him that made Liam’s breathing hitch. It was singing together on stage with Zayn staring at him intently all the while that made Liam hold his breath in wonder. It was Zayn leaning so close that all Liam had to do was tilt his head down and they’d be kissing that made Liam light-headed as if the air in his lungs was already being stolen by Zayn’s lips. It was the realisation that Zayn was beautiful down to his toes and Liam could have him, maybe keep him, that made Liam gasp and his heart to ache in a good way, but also in a terrible way.

It was one of those nights when Zayn just took Liam’s breath away and he couldn’t deal with it. He knew he was being stupid and cowardly even as he tugged on his jumper and coat and wrapped a thick woollen scarf round his neck. He put on Zayn’s glasses and when he was sure everyone was tucked in their beds, Liam closed his door and left.

It was cold as fuck and Liam hunched into himself as he brought the scarf higher up his face. He stared at his feet eating up the pavement.

Liam was a fairly ambitious person; he had to be if he wanted to make his dreams a reality. He’d signed up for X-Factor despite the fact that he was an awkward, quiet kid with virtually no real friends or personality to brag about. He could sing, though, and when the music was pouring out of him he could pretend he was a different person, one with loads of confidence that everyone gravitated to. But when the song had ended and he had left the stage, Liam was just Liam again, waiting for the next moment he could shine. He’d been turned away that first time, too young and inexperienced, but Liam hadn’t believed Simon's reasons. He’d been rejected because he was boring and flat and you couldn’t build a career on voice alone. He’d been gutted and the bullying that had stopped when he’d learnt how to defend himself picked up again, verbally this time; derisive whispers and snickers about tossers who should know their place.

It had taken the combined efforts of his family and relatives to convince him to audition again when he was the proper age and Liam had eventually agreed, because his desire to sing still overwhelmed his insecurities. And even after everything that happened, despite where he was right now and having four incredible friends love him for just being Liam, Liam still had his doubts. He couldn’t help comparing himself to the other lads and always coming up short. He hated the fact that he still had serious confidence issues, still ranked himself below everyone else, and still stopped himself from just grabbing Zayn and telling him how he felt.

Because what if? What if? What if?

Those two words echoed in Liam’s head until his legs grew tired and his eyes prickled.

It took fifteen minutes to get back to the hotel, passing the deserted lobby and heading straight for the lifts. He rubbed his frozen hands together – he forgot to wear gloves – and stepped out on the tenth floor. He stopped when he saw Louis pacing outside his room.

Louis whirled around when he heard foosteps and glared at him, face clouded with worry and anger. ‘You left,’ he hissed, keeping his voice down, ‘without telling me. Damn it, Liam, this is the third time this month! Why can’t you just suck it up and deal with it like the rest of of us?’ 

Liam narrowed his eyes, offended. ‘ _Louis_.’

The older boy shook his head and tilted his chin up. ‘No, Li, you’re acting like a child. I get it, alright? You need to go out but you also have to tell me before you just disappear like that! You _promised_. What if it had been someone else who’d knocked on your door and found you gone? Or you were finally caught by some desperate paparazzi? Christ, Liam, stop pulling such shit and _talk_ to me for once.’

His irritation vanished in the face of Louis’ genuine concern. Louis was right, of course; Liam was taking too many chances, shutting himself away about things he would have normally talked out with Louis or Zayn in the past.

Liam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. ‘It’s easier to leave, I guess, that way I don’t have to worry anyone else or feel like I’m being a burden. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’

In two large strides, Louis was stood in front of him, clutching him close. ‘You’re a git, Liam Payne,’ Louis whispered into his ear, ‘and I’m afraid you’re going to pull away from us completely if you’re always in your head and you don’t tell anyone what’s bothering you. You’ll never be a burden, Li. You’re my best friend, alright? I want you to tell me your problems and if you can’t, then I want you to _trust_ me to understand that you have to go. Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ Liam said gruffly, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands.

Louis hugged him tightly for a second or two longer before pushing him away and catching his hands. ‘Jesus, Li, you’re practically an ice cube! Where are your gloves? You need a bloody minder.’

‘I do not. I watch out for all of you,’ said Liam, tugging his hands free.

‘Yeah, well, we both know who would dearly love to take care of you,’ said Louis with an arched brow, ‘because you definitely need it.’

Liam sighed and shook his head. ‘Not tonight, okay? My head feels like it’s going to explode, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow about it if you want.’

Louis playfully pinched his nose. ‘Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I want to hear you pining for a certain someone’s eyes and lips and voice and tattoos and _he’s like a God, Lou, because there’s no way someone so beautiful can be a mere human_ – ’

Liam quickly took out his key card and swiped it over the lock. ‘Good _night_ , Louis,’ he said pointedly, left hand already pushing down the door handle.

He heard Louis chuckle out a ‘awww he’s shy, bless!’ before Liam closed the door. He flipped on the lights, thinking about having a long hot bath. He was shrugging off his coat when he noticed the figure on the bed. Liam’s hand flew to his chest. Fortunately, he recognised Zayn before the shout could leave his lips.

‘Fuck, you scared me!’ gasped Liam, heart fluttering under his palm.

Zayn stared at Liam, eyebrows furrowed. There was something on his face that made Liam’s fingers curl in his pullover.

Then Liam got it, and his eyes went wide with horror. ‘Zayn – ’

‘I don’t understand,’ said Zayn with a gentle shake of his head. His hair was down, fringe falling over his forehead. ‘I knocked on your door because I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to tell you – ’ Zayn’s fingers tightened where they gripped the edge of the bed. ‘Rang your phone but it went to voicemail. Strange, yeah? You always answer, Liam. So I got worried and charmed the lady at the front desk for an extra copy of your card, said you lost yours. But then you weren’t inside your room either and I was about to, like, send out a search party for you or summat when I heard Louis muttering outside the door, calling you all sorts of rude names.’

Liam swallowed and leant against the door.

‘So I waited because _Louis_ obviously knew something I didn’t and sure enough, ten minutes later, you arrived and – you’ve been sneaking out?’ Zayn tilted his head to the side, eyes unreadable. ‘Since when?’

‘Look, Zayn, I was – ’

‘Going to tell me?’ Zayn leapt to his feet but his voice remained calm and even, flat. ‘Right, Liam, because in the last, what, two years?’ At Liam’s sharp nod, Zayn’s lips tightened at the corners. ‘Two _years_ you didn’t tell me you’ve been _gallivanting_ round the city by yourself without anyone the wiser except, wait, Louis fucking knows! Do you know what could have happened to you? What it would do to _me_ if I just wake up one morning and learn that you’ve been in an accident or whatever because you were out on the streets in the middle of the night instead of in your room like I thought you would be? _Fuck_ , Liam!’

Liam flinched and rushed forward to hold the other boy, who was now bristling with hurt and fury. ‘Please, let me explain. I can explain.’

‘Save it,’ snapped Zayn, sidestepping away from Liam’s hands. His posture was hostile, hands balled so tightly they quivered with tension, and Liam felt his throat close with dismay. ‘Go the fuck away if you want to. Go to Louis or anyone else, I don’t care. Just don’t come to me, yeah?’

 

 

 

 

 

Louis found Liam hiding in a storage cupboard.

‘Oh, Li,’ sighed Louis. He sat across from Liam and leant back against the door.

Liam propped his chin on a fist and tugged on the fabric of his trousers. ‘Zayn found out about me running off, about you knowing,’ he mumbled dejectedly, ‘and he’s dead angry.’

Louis made a surprised sound in his throat. ‘So that’s why he’s been on the warpath. Shit, is he going to come after me?’

A smile tried and failed to curve up Liam’s lips. He said nothing and stared down at his fingers. Zayn had been avoiding him for the past two days. It wasn’t anything dramatic. Instead of staying close to Liam’s side like he usually did, Zayn had been skilfully weaving his way back and forth between Niall and Harry. Every time Liam tried to approach him, a tentative smile on his face, Zayn would find a reason to suddenly be in the opposite side of the room. He'd even literally stopped in the middle of a comment to Niall and spun around when he'd spotted Liam inching towards him. The only reason anybody even cottoned on to the fact that something was wrong was because Zayn and Liam were usually attached at the hip, sometimes even at odd body parts. Louis, though, Zayn completely and utterly snubbed, like whatever space Louis inhabited was just a vacuum of darkness.

The doorknob rattled and Louis dove to Liam’s side just before the door burst open and Harry and Niall stumbled in. The door shut behind them. The hazy light picked out Harry’s wide eyes and Niall’s bemused expression as they dropped to the floor.

‘Well,’ said Niall.

‘You git!’ Harry suddenly exploded, reaching over to slap Liam’s knee. ‘How could you?’

‘Yeah, Liam, how could you?’ Niall echoed.

Louis raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you even know what’s happened?’

‘Er, no, but Zayn’s fucking pissed as hell and he’s been using me and Haz as a human shield, so obviously something’s gone pear-shaped. What did happen?’ asked Niall curiously.

Liam hung his head. He fiddled with his thumbs. He didn’t want the other lads to be mad at him on top of everything, but Louis squeezed his shoulder and Harry rubbed his knee and Niall sat up straighter, grave-faced. Liam cleared his throat and in a soft whisper, told them the truth. Harry’s touch faltered for a bit but then they clamped down tightly on Liam’s knee.

Harry shook his head when Liam was done. ‘Mate, I sort of want to strangle you right now because, like, you’re supposed to be the responsible one who knows the risks of sneaking out without proper security. Do I need to remind you of that time Niall popped round to the newsagent’s for a Mars Bar and he was mauled by those mad Irish fangirls and you looked at him all disappointed-like when he came back missing the bottom half of his shirt and - ’

‘Shut up, Hazza,’ said Niall and squished in next to Liam. ‘So Liam, you’ve been a naughty, naughty boy, haven’t you?’

Liam laughed a little hysterically. ‘Yeah, but, I don’t regret what I did, just that I kept it from all of you. And like, why can’t I do something like that now and then? Just go away and not care and think about myself for once? Because you eat, and Lou and Harry curl into one huge ball and whisper to one another, and the only thing that calms me down is a walk. It’s stupid and I’ve been through all of this with Louis, okay – ’

‘You’re so dead,’ muttered Harry to Louis, ‘when Zayn catches you unawares in a secluded area. I’ll miss you, babe.’

‘ – and just, I miss Zayn and I want to apologise and tell him that I wasn’t running away from him or the band, but that there are just some things I can’t say yet without making sense of them in my own head first, and that I’ll always come back to him and tell him eventually, if it’s not, like, something really embarrassing and daft.’ He waved his hands around, nearly hitting Niall in the face. ‘It’s only been two days but it feels like a lifetime already, and we never fight so I feel really, really lost. I’m sorry,’ said Liam abruptly, looking at Niall first, then Harry, ‘because I ought to have told you, especially since Louis already knew, and before you get cross with him, I made him swear not to tell any of you. I didn’t want you to worry whenever I needed to get out and, well, I didn’t want you to stop me from going out either. I’m sorry.’

The silence stretched on for a bit and Liam stared intently at his hands. His fingernails were shorter than usual, always the first casualty whenever Liam was feeling out of sorts.

Suddenly there were three pairs of arms thrown around Liam’s shoulders, suffocating him with the lack of breathing space and love. He couldn't help but sniffle.

‘Liam, mate, when did you become this secretly angst-ridden person who takes long walks in the dark and probably stares off into space sorting out the meaning of life?’ asked Harry into Liam’s left ear.

‘Did he mention the part where he wears Zayn’s hipster glasses?’ Louis said.

Harry guffawed. ‘That is so adorable. Okay, I confess that I imagine your moody face to be like that of a puppy being ignored, but with the _glasses_. Man. Best visual ever.’

‘Poor, repressed Liam!’ wailed Niall. ‘Behind the sunshine smile and the puppy eyes lurks a burdened heart he can never express!’

Louis sighed dramatically. ‘Always trying to be strong for everyone and yet tragically vulnerable at the same time. He does not even dare speak to his friends about his problems because he is convinced he can solve them on his own and he doesn’t want to upset them. He is Batman!’ 

Liam felt a real smile stirring on his lips even as he rolled his eyes. He loved these stupid, stupid boys so much. When they were done taking the piss, the three boys unwound their arms and Liam took a deep breath.

Louis clapped his hands three times. ‘Alright, troops, this is what we’re going to do. We are going to distract the crew – who’re probably angry as fuck that we’re all missing – hang on, where is Zayn, actually?’

‘Sulking like a proper Slytherin up on the roof,’ answered Harry. ‘Zayn’s in a Mood, the kind that generates shifting storms in the atmosphere and has its own weather forecasting system flashing "WARNING" on the telly.’ He looked especially pleased with his words.

Niall rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘But like, Liam’s usually the weatherman, right, trying to calm the public and giving out advice on how to survive it, but now he’s the poor bloke with the umbrella standing in the middle of a golf field whilst Thunderstorm Malik raged over his head.’

‘Mate, that’s fucking brilliant,’ said Harry in an awed voice. They exchanged high-fives.

Louis snorted. ‘What am I then, if Liam’s the one to be fried by lightning?’

‘He will survive, duh. You, on the other hand, will be so dead, Lou,’ said Niall in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘You know how Zayn’s, like, unreasonably jealous when it comes to this one.’

Liam covered his face with his hands.

‘I’m sure he’ll forgive you,’ Niall hastily assured, patting the top of his head. ‘Just repeat what you said to us, give him the eyes, and he’ll definitely melt.’

Liam was, in fact, giggling. It felt good to have something positive trembling in his chest. He peered at Niall between his fingers, smile fully fleshed-out now.

‘It’s nice to know I’m not the daftest person in this cupboard right now,’ Liam said.

‘Oi, that’s rude,’ huffed Niall but he grinned and stuck out his tongue.

Louis watched them all fondly. ‘As I was saying, we – me, Hazza, and Niall – will cause a distraction so Liam can go find Zayn and apologise and maybe shag under the open night sky. Agreed?’

‘Aye, captain!’ Niall saluted.

Liam had to ask: ‘What sort of distraction?’ He conveniently left out any denial about the shagging.

A truly wicked smirk crossed Louis’ face. ‘Harry, how do you feel about streaking in a studio full of people for the sake of helping True Love?’

Harry looked delighted but Liam put up his hands with a ‘Oh God, I reckon True Love can wait for a bit, actually, guys.’

‘Management’s going to kill you and Tumblr is going to throw a fucking parade,’ said Niall. ‘Fucking ace, mate!’

 

 

 

 

 

The smoke curled up towards the stars. Zayn leant back against the wall, head tilted up with his fag dangling out of the corner of his mouth. He didn’t acknowledge Liam’s presence, his fingers plucking the cigarette out, pursing his lips as he blew out a trail of smoke. Liam sat down on one of the chairs, his arms crossed on top of the backrest. Zayn wasn’t looking at him but Liam expected that. Pain still stabbed through him, though. He licked his lips, fingers coiling around his elbows.  

‘It started in America – Connecticut, our second night there – and we were at a signing. The only thing I remember about it was the _noise_. It was so loud that it was almost physical and the next thing I knew I couldn’t breathe, Zayn. Like, my chest went all tight as if I’ve been running for ages. It lasted for just a second or two and I think Niall noticed because he gave me his water bottle.’ Liam smiled to himself as he recalled Niall’s face, sweet with concern. ‘I’m still not sure if that was a panic attack or whatever, because why would I panic? I was living my dream with four brilliant boys who’d become my family and we were in the States, and the fans loved us for some reason, and we were followed _all the time_ , and everyone wanted to know who I was, what sort of food I loved, if I wore boxers or briefs, if I fancied quiet girls or wild girls, if I was dating anyone, and – ’

He faltered, gaze finally catching Zayn’s. ‘ – I was sort of losing myself in all of you, in Louis’ chaos and Harry’s charm and Niall’s energy and your moods, until I wasn’t sure who I was anymore, if I was just someone assigned to take care of you lot or whatever. Self-confidence issues, I know, but I needed to get away for a bit, figure out what the fuck was going on in my own head that made me feel like I was drowning. And I just went out, Zayn, needing the distance and the quiet. You do it too, when you retreat inside of yourself, but I can’t do it your way. When I’m on my own, no cameras or screaming fans or watchful eyes, it feels so _good_. But the thing is, yeah, I’ve never regretted being part of One Direction and every time I come back I feel more grateful for this mad old life of mine because otherwise I wouldn’t have met any of you.’

Zayn’s cigarette had turned to ash by the time Liam sucked in a deep breath, the words drying up on his tongue. He raked his fringe back from his face and his shoulders slumped. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Zayn. I never planned on telling anyone. Louis caught me when I was sneaking out one time and I made him promise not to tell anyone, not because I didn’t trust any of you, but because it’s _mine_ to keep, no one else’s. And I understand why you’re angry, since I’d probably be pissed if you went out on your own and told no one - which makes me a bloody hypocrite, really - and just. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.’ Liam dropped his head on his forearms with a sigh. He had plenty more to say, or just three words that carried an ocean of meaning, but Liam knew this wasn’t the right time. He wasn’t even certain if he made sense or just provoked Zayn’s resentment even more; all Liam knew was that his heart ached and he missed Zayn down to his bones.

Liam jerked in surprise when he felt, and whiffed, smoke-tinged fingers sifting through his hair, slow and forgiving. _Thank God_ , thought Liam as painful relief left him boneless underneath Zayn’s touch.

 

 

 

 

 

‘That’s definitely Harry’s bum,’ said Zayn, squinting at Liam’s phone. They were curled around each other on Liam’s bed. ‘Or the upper half of it, at least.’

Liam wriggled his head closer until it was touching the side of Zayn’s. ‘Um, maybe? I don’t actually think he removed his pants, though. Paul caught him before he could pull them down, thank God.’

‘Not what the fangirls are saying,’ said Zayn. ‘They’re practically apoplectic he didn’t get to strip all the way.'

'Terrifying. It's only been two hours.'                           

Zayn shrugged and locked Liam’s phone, reaching sideways to put it down on the bedside table. The silence stretched a bit tautly at the edges. Liam had spent the past thirty minutes telling Zayn everything he wanted to know. Once or twice, Zayn’s grip on Liam’s wrist had tightened when he admitted to some of the doubts he’d wrestled with. Hurt had flashed on his face. Despite the way they were tangled together, there was still something tense between them.

Liam traced the individual bones on the back of Zayn’s hand. ‘We’re good?’ he asked softly, hesitantly.

‘You’re a menace to my sanity,’ murmured Zayn, eyes slipping shut. He pulled Liam’s arm over his waist. ‘But yeah, we’re good.’

Okay, thought Liam. He knew Zayn was telling the truth but he also knew it would still be slightly awkward between them for a bit. It didn’t matter, though, because Liam had a plan.

 

 

 

 

 

‘We just – go out?’ asked Zayn, doubtful. He stared at himself in the mirror again and Liam rolled his eyes.

‘Yes, Zayn, we just go out,’ said Liam patiently. ‘We don’t walk fast, look over our shoulders, or act in any way suspicious. We’re only two normal blokes out for the night.’

Zayn bit on his lower lip. ‘I don’t know, Liam. Are you sure it’ll work?’

‘I’ve done it for nearly two years,’ Liam reminded him. ‘I’ve never been caught once. Well, except for Lou.’

Zayn’s expression darkened with jealousy and Liam immediately knew to change the subject. ‘You’re almost unrecognisable, Zayn,’ a lie because it was impossible to completely mask that face, ‘and, like, very dashing in a uni student kind of way.’

After a second, Zayn quirked a grin. ‘Alright, I trust you. Hey, if we’re pretending to be uni students, shouldn’t we hit the pubs?’

‘The task, my young apprentice, is to go unnoticed,’ said Liam in his sagest voice, trying to keep the relief out of it. They were finally, completely alright, him and Zayn. ‘People in pubs stare at you. It’s a given no matter which country you’re in.’

‘Oh come on, Li, we’re sneaking out for the night! Don’t tell me you just _walk?_ ’

‘That is exactly what I’m telling you.’

‘That’s so, so _you_. Don’t you ever do something mental like, uh - ’

‘Rob shops? Flip people off and then run away? Vandalise property?’

Zayn gave him a look.

Liam chuckled. ‘It’s therapy for me, Zayn, not an excuse to go mental.’

Zayn huffed and grabbed Liam’s hand (bugger his heart for tripping all over itself) and led him out the door. ‘Well, you don’t need some weird walking therapy tonight because you’ll be with _me_.’

 

 

 

 

  

They went out and bought proper disguises, because Zayn hated doing things half-arsed. Liam should have put more of a fight because he wasn’t going to wear the aviator goggles, long brown coat, leather boots and gloves Zayn threw his way. But Zayn simply shot him another look, the you-kept-this-from-me-for-years-but- _Louis_ -knows one, and Liam pulled them on with a resigned sigh. Zayn was going to play the righteous-victim card for a long time, Liam could tell. Zayn was already dressed in a similar style, sans goggles and coat since his leather jacket looked better on, when he looped a white scarf round Liam’s neck similar to the one he wore.

They stood close together as if it was their only option, no other space for them to be in but each other’s. This wasn’t anything unusual at all but Liam’s palms grew clammy and his belly swooped with giant butterflies as he stared helplessly at Zayn’s face. Liam wanted to feel each fluttering curling eyelash on his lips. Zayn’s eyes flickered up, dark in the light of the shop, and held Liam’s for the length of time it took to tug one end of the scarf over the other (slowly, so slowly), and they’ve done this before too, stared like they had a right.

When the scarf was properly knotted, Zayn let his fingers glide down the fabric and tugged on the end. ‘Perfect,’ he murmured, gaze dropping to Liam’s lips. ‘Or nearly.’ He turned sharply around and rummaged in one of the shelves.

‘There’s more?’ whined Liam to hide the shake in his voice.

Zayn went back to him with a bright grin, tugged Liam's goggles off, planted the brown cap with side-flaps on his head and then put back the goggles at an angle. His fingers touched the longish wisps of hair peeking from under the cap. Liam was done with his buzz cut phase; he’d tried it, liked it, but wanted his hair back now. Zayn obviously felt the same, judging by the small smile at the corners of his lips.

He patted Liam’s cheek. ‘There, done!’

‘Where’s yours?’

Zayn snorted and gestured at his quiff. ‘And ruin this masterpiece?’

‘So shallow,’ teased Liam. He glanced at himself in the nearby window and harrumphed. It felt weird not to wear the hipster glasses. ‘This is going to attract the attention we’re trying to avoid in the first place, you know that, right?’

‘We’re in Japan. People wear costumes on the streets every day.’

‘And why do you look ready for a night out but I have these silly things on? Is this punishment for not telling you? Because that’s low, Malik.’

Zayn pursed his lips and grabbed a pair of glasses with a long chain attached and put it on. ‘Happy?’

‘No.’

‘You’re so annoying,’ said Zayn around an amused smirk. ‘Come on, Li, you look _adorable._ See, with your protective goggles and hat and _wittle_ cheeks.’

Liam shoved him away with an indignant huff. ‘Shut up, I hate you.’

They paid for their stuff, bowing to the kind middle-aged woman behind the till with the pink streaks in her hair, and stumbled out of the shop into the bright, busy Tokyo night. They had no idea where they were and what was going to happen, and the thrill of the escape and each other’s company showed in the wide smiles on their faces.

Liam had never been lonely when he’d gone out because it was what he needed then. With Zayn by his side, though, his head felt clearer than ever. Liam wasn’t here to sort out his thoughts but to get lost and have fun with the beautiful boy beside him. He hooked his arm through Zayn’s and was rewarded by a stunning grin that left him a little breathless.

And it was perfect. They dragged each other down streets and into shops, spent an hour in a massive comic book store they couldn’t buy anything from because they were all in Japanese. Zayn bought himself a pair of studs and made Liam change into the One Direction shirt he found, the one with _Zayn Malik_ printed in glittering pink letters on the chest. Liam complained he looked stupid wearing it underneath the coat and the goggles and gloves, but Zayn just laughed at him and pecked his cheek.

Nobody knew who they were. They were just two lads out to terrorise the city, and if they did get strange glances it was because their getups were ridiculous. It was liberating and brilliant and the happiest Liam had been for quite a while. He loved being on stage and acting like dickheads with the other boys, but he also loved _this_ , Zayn’s fingers laced with his (they’d stopped pretending they didn’t want to hold hands ten minutes after leaving the costume shop) and Zayn’s attention focused all on him.

‘Liam, Liam, look,’ Zayn kept saying, more like a kid than a twenty-year-old, ‘isn’t that cool? Fuck, Li, what is that? Oh god, there’s no bloody way I’m eating that. Liam, don’t! Get it off my hair!’

By pure luck, or Liam’s awful sense of direction (‘This way isn’t south, Li!’ Zayn insisted, tugging Liam in the opposite direction.

Liam dug in his heels and showed Zayn his iPhone. ‘Sod off: the compass says it is, alright?’

Snorting, Zayn crossed his arms. ‘Never trust your iPhone 5, Liam. They took off Google Maps, the buggers.’) they came across an arcade blinking with neon lights and cutesy pop. Liam and Zayn exchanged grins and ducked inside. It was a three-storey building of nothing but games, games, games. Liam and Zayn weren’t big gamers but the flash of graphics and twang of music called to something in their blood.

They had a go on the racing games first until they were dizzy and queasy. Liam found House of the Dead 3D and hauled Zayn’s protesting arse inside the curtained booth. It was dark and atmospheric, the only light from the screen, and they put on their 3D glasses. Zayn was notoriously easy to scare and he yelped every time a zombie made a sudden appearance and shot at Liam’s character instead. ‘You are bloody crap at this, Malik,’ Liam cackled and whipped out his phone to take a picture of Zayn’s twisted face. ‘Wish I’d brought Niall instead!’

It was Zayn’s turn to mock Liam when they tried the puzzles and Liam was absolutely shit at it. He had his revenge, though, when he spotted Dance Dance Revolution. Zayn groaned and flatly told Liam to forget it, but Liam whipped out the big eyes and pout, and with his half-curls nearly back to its usual length, it wasn’t long before Zayn caved. They got up on the platform and Zayn said, ‘I fucking hate you,’ as Liam chose a random Japanese song. He didn’t stop cursing the entire time as both of them stomped on the glowing arrows without much rhythm or finesse. A few curious kids stopped to observe them, wearing the condescending smiles of experts watching noobs make fools of themselves.

‘This isn’t exactly low-profile,’ Zayn wheezed as he flailed. ‘Shit, hit left, you stupid foot!’

Liam laughed, doing slightly better than Zayn. ‘YOLO, Zayn. Isn’t that what you always tell _me?_ ’

Liam was out of breath when they were done. Zayn leant heavily on him as they sat on a bench. ‘The other lads would have _adored_ this,’ said Liam, looking around the room.

Zayn poked him in the ribs, face flushed from dancing. ‘Yeah, but it’s nice, just the two of us, right?’

His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. ‘Of course, babe. No one else I’d rather be with.’

Before they left, Zayn insisted on playing one of the UFO catcher games. On his fourth try, (‘I can do it, Liam’) Zayn finally won for Liam a giant stuffed turtle. Liam draped its arms over his shoulders, grinning like an idiot and a blush staining his cheeks.

They eventually found a tiny Ramen place to eat in and they queued outside the door, giggling into each other's shoulders. They picked a corner table by the back, play-fighting with their chopsticks and making complete arses of themselves. When their bowls arrived, Zayn didn’t know how to use his chopsticks and had to mime asking the bemused waitress for a fork, which the shop didn’t have, and Liam was forced to go to the nearby 7/11 and find him one.

Zayn beamed. ‘Cheers, Li.’

‘Just eat your damn ramen,’ snapped Liam, mock-angry.

‘At least I didn’t tell you to get me a spoon!’

‘If you had, I’d let you starve.’

With their bellies full of delicious soup, Liam and Zayn went back out on the street to find that it was several degrees colder than it had been at the start of the night. They were fairly toasty in their clothes but Liam tugged Zayn closer with a murmured, ‘It’s cold, Zayn,’ holding Donatello-the-Turtle in his other arm. Zayn merely smirked at him. They were quiet for a while, content to listen to the unique music Tokyo made, cars and people and J-Pop blaring from stereos despite the late hour. It was nearly midnight and Liam had never been out this late before. He didn’t want to go back to reality yet. Zayn caught him glancing at his watch and shook his head gently, pulling Liam along with him. They wandered aimlessly, pointing out various things that seemed so strange and amazing to them.

They cut through a small empty park and without warning, Zayn jumped on Liam’s back. Liam grunted, hands automatically going to the backs of Zayn’s thighs to keep him up. Donatello was pinned by Liam’s arm and Zayn grasped the toy by its head.

‘I can’t believe your skinny arse is this heavy,’ grumbled Liam as he started walking again.

‘Well, I have no problem believing you’re this strong, Liam,’ said Zayn brightly. He placed his chin on top of Liam’s head, elbows looping round Liam’s shoulders more firmly. His voice softened. ‘Thank you for bringing me along.’

Liam bit his lip. ‘I _am_ sorry I didn’t tell you, Zayn. I’d be furious too if I found out you’ve been sneaking off without telling anyone.’

‘I’m not even angry anymore,’ said Zayn. His fingers brushed gently against Liam’s jaw. ‘I was mostly upset you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. And I know, yeah, that it wasn’t about that at all,’ he quickly added when Liam tried to interrupt, ‘but it felt that way to me, Li. I’m just. I don’t know. Jealous because Louis knew about this thing that was obviously important to you and I didn’t.’ He sighed. ‘That sounded even more ridiculous out loud than it did in my head.’

‘Next time I need a break, I promise to tell you first,’ said Liam seriously.

The arms around him tightened. ‘I’m kind of terrified by the thought of you out on your own, if I’m being honest.’

‘Why?’ asked Liam. He stared straight ahead, fingers tight on Zayn’s thighs. His heart quickened and he wondered if Zayn could feel it where they were pressed together, because Liam could feel Zayn’s, a fast-paced staccato against his back.

‘Liam, come on, you know why,’ said Zayn, sounding slightly exasperated. He bumped his chin on top of Liam’s head lightly. ‘Stop pretending you don’t.’

Liam licked his lips. ‘Nothing’s happened to me so far,’ he said instead.

‘Hmmm, let’s not tempt fate, alright?’

‘Alright.’

They were back out on the street, this one less populated than the others. A digital clock on one of the buildings told them it was 1:15am. Zayn nuzzled into the side of Liam’s head. ‘I like this,’ he murmured into one pink ear. ‘Why don’t you carry me more often, Liam?’

‘You’re lazy enough as it is, babe,’ said Liam with a soft chuckle. He tilted his head to the side so Zayn’s lips grazed his temple. ‘Don’t want to encourage your bad habits.’

‘You bite your nails but I never scold you,’ retorted the other boy. Liam could feel the smile Zayn pressed into his skin.

‘Why is that?’

‘I like seeing your fingers in your mouth. It’s hot.’

A fierce heat took over Liam’s face and he choked on his exhale. ‘ _Zayn!_ ’

Laughing loudly, Zayn ducked down and kissed the edge of Liam’s cheekbone before he jumped off. Liam took a step back, startled, and then whipped around to give the other boy a glare. There was a sweet smile curling Zayn’s lips, eyes bright and warm, and Liam immediately softened with a roll of his eyes.

‘You’re a twat,’ Liam informed him.

Zayn rocked forward on his heels, hugging Donatello to his chest. ‘But you love me anyway, right?’

Liam’s heart skipped a beat. Instead of answering, Liam took one of Zayn’s hands in both of his own and kissed Zayn’s knuckles.

 

 

 

 

 

Their elbows bumped on every other step as they made their way to their rooms. The corridor was brightly lit and the carpet muffled their footsteps. Liam’s hands were stuffed in the pockets of the brown coat, curled into fists. He snuck a glance at Zayn and saw a tiny smile playing on the other boy’s lips. It made his heart skip a beat. Zayn took out his key card and unlocked his room, stepping inside without a word. Liam lingered by the doorway and watched as Zayn put Donatello on one of the armchairs, took off his glasses, and then carefully arranged it on the toy’s head. _That’s really cute,_ Liam thought as he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.

‘Well, this was – ’

Zayn turned to face him with an arched brow. ‘Seriously, Li?’

‘What?’ Liam asked defensively.

‘You sneakily took me out on a date and now you’re doing the whole awkward goodbye thing?’

Liam crossed his arms, cheeks flushing because Zayn had noticed. Of course he would. ‘So?’

‘Unbelievable,’ Zany muttered under his breath and marched over to where Liam stood. Liam unconsciously took a step back and Zayn rolled his eyes when he noticed. ‘Bloody unbelievable,’ he repeated and crowded Liam against the wall, shoving the door closed with his foot. ‘You daft, daft boy, I don’t even know why I’m in lo – ’

Liam gave a start then he reached forward and grasped Zayn’s jacket by the lapels and hauled him in. Their lips crushed together, the rest of Zayn’s words swept away by Liam’s tongue. With a muffled noise, Zayn caught and nibbled on Liam’s bottom lip with his teeth, panting, ‘I’ve wanted to do that for fucking _ages_ ,’ and then took advantage of Liam’s gasp by thrusting his tongue inside.

Liam tore off the cap and goggles and coat as Zayn led him to the bed, cupping his face and refusing to break the kiss. Zayn turned them around and pushed Liam down on the mattress. ‘Do not move,’ ordered Zayn before he shrugged out of his jacket and lifted his shirt over his head.  

‘Yeah,’ said Liam breathlessly, eyes widening as Zayn stripped in front of him. He couldn’t help but tip forward and lick the tattoo on Zayn’s hip, mumbling, ‘Sorry, I moved.’

Zayn groaned and threaded his fingers through Liam’s hair, gripping tight. ‘S’kay for now,’ he said, voice raspy, and let Liam nibble on his skin for a few more seconds before tugging him up by the hair. Liam dug his fingers in Zayn’s hips.

‘Don’t move this time,’ Zayn repeated, licking at Liam’s parted lips, and went down on his knees. Liam spread his legs wider, leaning back on his arms and clutching at the blankets. His dick twitched inside his trousers when Zayn slipped his hands underneath his shirt and dragged his nails over Liam’s abs. The shirt went over his head and on the floor before Zayn fixed his mouth directly over Liam’s birthmark and sucked.

‘Fuck, Zayn,’ Liam whined, tilting his head to the side, back arching. Hands dragged up Liam’s torso, down his taut arms, and back up again; all the while Zayn’s teeth and tongue made an absolute mess of Liam’s neck. Every nip, every swirl, every suck sent a bolt down to Liam’s dick until he was so hard he could’ve sank the Titanic. ‘God, Zayn, come _on_ \- ’ His hand shot out and pulled desperately at Zayn’s hair.

Zayn hummed out a, ‘Hold still, Li, you can do it,’ as his lips finally trailed lower. He played with Liam’s nipples only briefly, which Liam was disappointed about, but he was soon moaning again when Zayn spent a long moment appreciating his abs with his tongue.

‘You’re so hot, Liam,’ Zayn murmured into his skin, dark gaze flicking up to watch him. He unbuttoned Liam’s jeans and Liam tilted his hips up to get them off. ‘I’ve dreamt about fucking you for years. Opening you with my fingers – ’ which grasped Liam’s cock in a tight grip ‘ – and with my tongue – ’ swiping over the leaking head ‘ – while you make the most delicious sounds; just like that, babe, fuck.’

Liam couldn’t gulp down air fast enough. He twisted Zayn’s hair in his fist, wanting to thrust up in the brilliant wet heat surrounding his prick but Zayn’s arm kept his hips firmly down. He wanted a lot of things at the moment, like to touch Zayn and make him feel just as good, but Zayn wasn’t letting him and all Liam could do was moan and keep his eyes on the gorgeous sight the other boy made with his mouth stretched wide around Liam.

The sudden loss of pressure on his lap made Liam blink his eyes open (they’d fluttered shut when Zayn had tongued his slit) and Liam groaned when he saw Zayn jerking himself off. He grasped Zayn’s chin with his other hand and pushed him off his dick.

‘Told you not to move,’ Zayn growled.

Liam rolled his eyes and yanked on his hair sharply. ‘We can play your games later. Wanna touch you _now_.’ He scooted up on the bed and dragged Zayn with him, sighing at the salty-bitter tang he tasted as he licked into Zayn’s mouth. He stretched out on his back, Zayn hovering over him, all burning eyes, sharp collarbones, and sweaty caramel-dark skin. Liam was dizzy with how beautiful Zayn was. He raked his fingernails down Zayn’s back, then followed the same path up with his fingertips. Their tongues curled around each other, lips clinging and raw. Zayn ground their hips, hands buried in Liam’s hair, mumbling in pleasure.

It was good, fucking brilliant, and Liam knew he could come like this, with Zayn pressed snugly against him, but he had other ideas. ‘I want to suck you,’ he gasped, mouthing across Zayn’s jaw, ‘while you suck me.’

Zayn pushed up on his elbows, giving Liam that _look_ , the one where he couldn’t believe Liam was real or something, before smirking. He bit on Liam’s lower lip again – he seemed to really enjoy that – and let Liam turn him around. Liam licked his lips and pulled Zayn’s hips down so he could drag his tongue over Zayn’s balls, up the hard length of him, before swallowing him down. He could feel Zayn’s groan in his throat, and his smugness lasted for as long as it took for Zayn to return the favour. It had been ages since the last time Liam had a dick in his mouth, and he didn’t really care much for it, but this was Zayn’s cock gliding over his tongue and hitting the back of his throat, Zayn whose taste made Liam suck harder, whose musky smell made him moan. Suddenly Liam couldn't get enough.

Everything became a blur of movement and sensation, Liam’s attention divided between making Zayn lose his mind and the way Zayn sucked on his cock. His hips made tiny jerking motions and every time Zayn’s teeth and tongue accidentally dragged on the spot just below the head, Liam grunted and felt the spark in his gut burn hotter, until Zayn figured it out and began working him in earnest. Liam’s fingers tightened brutally on Zayn’s hips as his mouth went slack, panting over Zayn’s erection as he threw his head back and thrust into Zayn’s mouth. The spark grew into a blaze that made Liam cry out, thighs shaking as he came inside Zayn’s mouth.

‘Oh God, fuck,’ Liam gasped, eyes clenched shut, ‘fucking _hell_.’

Liam slumped down on the bed, chest heaving desperately for air, when Zayn pulled off his spent dick and scrambled to face him. He opened his eyes to catch the wild, needy look on Zayn’s face as Zayn straddled his chest. ‘Liam, Liam, can I – please, can I – ’ Zayn all but pleaded, rolling his hips restlessly, and Liam cupped the other boy’s arse and urged him forward, and Zayn swore as he gripped the headboard and fucked into his mouth.

Liam was utterly wrecked from his orgasm but his cock was making a valiant effort to come back to life as he stared up at Zayn, at his strong, slender body braced over him; felt the other boy using his mouth almost carelessly and it was so fucking erotic Liam wanted to get hard again and have Zayn fuck his arse. Liam moaned low in his throat and wriggled his middle finger between Zayn’s cheeks and pushed inside him. Their eyes held as Liam sucked him hard, finger crooking to find that sweet spot, and Zayn shouted as his spine arched, looking like a piece of art as he came. Liam choked a bit and tugged Zayn off him, who fell on his back in a panting mess. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to sort out his buzzing head.

After a while, Liam felt Zayn’s hand cup his shoulder and pull him to his side. There was a blinding, and slightly sleazy, grin on Zayn’s face.

‘You look like a pervert,’ Liam told him with a raspy giggle.

‘You look like this really sweet kid who’d just lost his virginity,’ retorted Zayn, his arms snaking around Liam.

Liam scoffed. ‘Hardly a virgin.’

‘Don’t make me jealous,’ said Zayn as he buried his face against Liam’s throat.

Liam didn’t even try containing the truly stupid smile making his cheeks ache. ‘Just my luck I had to fall in love with a possessive sod.’

Zayn shuddered and snuggled closer. ‘You did?’ he asked softly.

Liam stroked his hair. ‘Hmmm. Inevitable, really.’

‘Word of the day,’ said Zayn. He placed a kiss on Liam’s neck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_End_

 

 

 

Zayn was still awake when Liam came back (of course he was; he always waited for Liam). Zayn looked up from his book and gave him that familiar smile, half-welcome and half-relief. It instantly turned upside down when he saw the state Liam was in, damp and shivering.

‘It started raining,’ explained Liam, swiftly undressing down to his boxers and toeing off his shoes and socks. He crawled underneath the duvet and plastered himself to Zayn’s side. He pushed his cold nose against Zayn’s ribs. ‘I was by the bridge, like, just five minutes away and the rain came down without warning. I had to run for it.’

Zayn snorted and swept back Liam’s soggy fringe from his forehead. ‘I hope it was worth the risk of becoming ill.’

‘It did. My head’s a lot clearer.’ Liam snuggled even closer, throwing an arm and leg over the other boy. ‘I love you. Come out with me.’

Zayn gave a hum of agreement, saying, ‘Great, but I’m still not babysitting if you – ’

The duvet was yanked back from Liam’s head. ‘Zayn, it’s cold,’ whinged Liam, smile caught between his teeth.  

‘Liam,’ Zayn said in a warning tone that wobbled a tiny bit.

Liam pushed himself up with his forearm and cupped Zayn’s face with his other hand, thumb stroking a flushed cheek. ‘I mean it, Zayn. We’d have to tell the lads of course, and Management’s going to yell and force us to change our minds, but I know I won’t. The next time we go on a date, I actually want to hold your hand out in public and have people know that hey, those are the queer lads from that boy band with the hair or something.’

Zayn cleared his throat. His lips twitched upwards until he was beaming so wide that Liam had to reach up and taste the other boy’s happiness with his tongue. Zayn broke the kiss with a laugh and tugged on a brown curl. ‘With hair, really? That’s how you choose to describe us?’

Liam grasped Zayn’s shoulders and pulled him down on top of him, ankles hooked together and Zayn’s elbows planted on either side of Liam’s ears. ‘Yes, the hair, Zayn, we’re the ones with the _hair_. Or we could go with tattoos but Niall still hasn’t got one.’

‘If we’re coming out, does that mean you can finally get a tattoo of ‘Property of Zayn Malik’ on your arse? Or forehead, I’m not picky.’

Liam pinched him on the bum. ‘Only if you shave all of your hair off. Like, even your pubes.' 

‘I’ve changed my mind. I’ll just have to keep a closer eye on you.’

‘Seriously, you’ve got it backwards, babe. I ought to be the one worried, you bloody walking GQ model.’

‘No, no, no, Liam, you’ve no idea how many people want to take you home to their Mummies and Daddies – ’

‘Will you two shut the fuck up?’ Niall shouted from the other room. There was a faint yelp and an annoyed, ‘Ow, Harry, you hit me! Niall’s on the _left_ ’ before Niall went on, ‘I’m really happy you two are fucking happy but it’s arse o’clock in the morning and some of us are trying to fucking _sleep!_ ’

‘I love you,’ whispered Zayn, eyes dancing, as Liam smothered his hysterical giggles into Zayn’s mouth.

 

**Author's Note:**

> fyi this is one of my ideal dates. also i've been trying my best at writing actual liam/zayn interaction and dialogue and idk if i suck at it and should i just stick with describing things bec ugh so hard! 
> 
> ps: if you're a popstar don't follow liam's example. you will be recognised and get mobbed.
> 
> pps: i can complain about the length because it's supposed to be just 3k of nonsense but i really have no control of my word-vomit. story of my life. stupid ziam plot bunnies. i want to write a long chaptered fic instead of a long oneshot but i am crap at updating. damn.
> 
> anyway feedback is love <3


End file.
